.:.Broken

One of my most recent bits of excitement has been that I was thwarted handily by the black ice of death that plagues Northerly portions of the heartland from time to time (mostly in the wintertime). The long and short of it is that it got me good and I ended up breaking my left ankle. Since then, I've been laid up at home, offered many a pain killer (I've only partaken of one solitary pill because I'm tough), and have traded my plaster cast of 2 days for a sparkling white fiberglass one as of yesterday. The specialist kind of shrugged yesterday and said "we'll try it without surgery and see what happens." So we'll see.

I'm learning that this is one of those things that encourages you to show your true colors. I haven't really enjoyed mine. When my circumstances were far from what I wanted, some pieces of me that I thought were dead and gone came running back. It had me longing for the day to end so that I could get a fresh start. There were a lot of frustrations yesterday with our animals eating garbage, ink pens, Christmas presents (including fudge), and other things, only to later vomit on the floor, trying to cook and clean other messes and destruction, having things to do that I just can't get to, and figuring out what to do since the city left a notice on our door that our sidewalks have to be cleared within 24 hours...AAargh! (And that was the short version)

Today was a new day. Somehow it took yesterday's lemons and made some tasty hot chocolate for me today. I had some words I had read yesterday rumbling around in me as well as a sermon from my pastor at last night's Advent worship, things I'd been reflecting on for the last few months, and a book I just finished that all rolled together to do what I told you they would-teach me with beauty and pain. I even got a song out of the deal which is always a welcome thing.

I don't really feel like tying all of the ends together for you here, so I think I'll just give the lyrics of the song I wrote. In case there's some confusion, it shifts perspective without warning like many of my songs; going from Jesus to the paralytic, to Paul, to Jesus again.

Broken
Christopher Stephens

I am broken. I am stained.
I am tainted and yet I remain.
I am brought here by hands of grace,
but I am broken all the same.

I am not here for the peace, the mountain view or the wind through the trees.
I have come to shed all your need and to break into freedom indeed.

I am broken. I am stained.
I am tainted and yet I remain.
I am brought here by hands of grace,
but I am broken all the same.

I am not a potter, you see. I cannot even climb to my knees.
A lifeless lump, to some a disease, but I am perfect for the purpose I've received

I am broken. I am stained.
I am tainted and yet I remain.
I am brought here by hands of grace,
but I am broken all the same.

I, myself, a golden boy, indeed! A picture of one who's in need
but there's a power made perfect in me and I am perfect for the road beneath my feet.

I am broken. I am stained.
I am tainted and yet I remain.
I am brought here by hands of grace,
but I am broken all the same.

I have not come for kings or queens, or the "good," whatever that means
I have come that the blind may see, the deaf may hear, the mute may speak
that the lame leap to their feet, that the dead would rise from their sleep

that the dead may rise up and breathe
that you might believe

Awaiting the birth,
CS
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Paul: A Novel
Walt Wangerin

This is the book I just finished yesterday (lying on the couch with my foot on many pillows). The way God loves to use broken people is one of the less prominent themes that I gleaned, but it definitely encouraged me to trust God. The author gives some great fictional insight to the life of the Apostle Paul and encourages the reader to look for unity in the Church and to remember that the people of the early Church were real. In every way.

.:.Getting Inspired

I can be inspired by just about anything. I’m one of those people constantly scribbling on napkins, in sketch books, and in my palm pilot. But to be inspired for those bigger things, it takes a bit more--in fact, I’m learning that there’s a whole messy, drawn-out, confusing process that often takes place in me. That was definitely the case for Out of the Overflow. Like most of my moments of grand inspiration, the subject matter was rumbling around in the depths of my life for quite some time-- whispers and shadows. I heard those rumblings and it made me a little uneasy. It turns out that a specific anthem was beginning to swell up in me. Then came the fun part in the process. I’d hear or read something from someone else and suddenly get the picture. Sometimes they’d present the whole concept for me, and other times I’d just get a phrase that would get caught up in all sorts of things.

From here, I felt like I was climbing aboard a great ship that had been steady on its course for quite some time--maybe even being hauled up onto the deck splashing and sputtering. From then on I had a new sort of inspiration-- a new curiosity and confidence that grew into an obsession. When I got to that point, the ideas had tea time right on the tip of my tongue and for a penny, or even at the faintest opportunity, I’d let them spill out. One of the coolest things is that, without fail, I would hear about things that fall right in line with that topic from other peoples’ lives. This stretched every aspect of the issue and drove the topic even further into my consciousness.

Which brings to mind the thread that began to tie my first album together, “out of the overflow of the heart, the mouth speaks.” So after I have this theme, you might assume that I write some songs and that’s it-- end of this theme, on to the next one. That’s what I thought. How naive was I....

I thought I had tilled the ground, planted the seed, grown a big tree, and squeezed my first cup of juice. Now I think a more accurate picture might be one of God, who after weeding and cultivating had finally just sat back and said, “now there’s some good dirt.” That’s when the deepest and most interesting piece of all of this happened. The theory began to seep into my life. For one thing, I had no idea that I could learn from my own songs. There were a few times that I felt like songs had just popped out of me--like I went to get a sandwich to push through my writer’s block and there was a great song in my notebook when i got back--like it happened without me. I know that other writers have felt like that too--I’ve heard them say it. I can understand having to take a step back and figure out what a song means from there, but to be dwelling on a topic for months, maybe years and then to feel like you’ve never thought about it before is a strange experience. I learned that I had gotten into the good habit of saying we have an abundance, which completely prepared me to believe it and then see what that really means. So now I’m learning through pain and beauty what some of the thoughts I’ve thunk for years really mean and getting inspired all the while.

.:.CS



.:.Reading Log

God’s Debris: A Thought Experiment
This is a book by Scott Adams, the creator of the Dilbert comics. It was definitely one of those books that just makes you think a bit.

When You Give a Mouse a Penny...

He's probably going to tell you what's on his mind. My wife gives me pennies every once in a while. She does it for a variety of reasons, but most often just to remind me of the beauty of simple things, to remind me of her love for me, and to silently say that she values me sharing myself with her. I think it's interesting to see what it is other people are thinking and, if nothing else, I think it's healthy to articulate a lot of those "inner" sorts of things. If anyone besides my wife is reading this (and my mother, of course), I hope you find it interesting and encouraging snapshot of my life right now.

I also like hearing about what people are learning and who they're being inspired by, so I'll try to regularly include an addendum about what it is I'm reading, listening to, etc.

Thanks for reading!

Richest blessings,

CS